Lights
by Chicleeblair
Summary: She found her family under the tree, but that was a long time ago. Things have changed, changed utterly. The lights are still there.


Late Christmas Eve night and the townhouse is quiet, for once. Meredith wraps her red robe around herself and pads down the stairs. The tree is beckoning to her, almost accusatorily. _You've avoided me_, it says. It's true. She let Lexie decorate it, making sure she was out of the house at the time. They all think it's because she's not a holiday person, but it goes far deeper than that. Derek offers understanding looks, and holds her. But his family is safe and sound, ready for them to descend at New Year's. At least he got them off the hook for Christmas; she is grateful for that.

The smell of the fir tree engulfs her as she eases down underneath the branches.. Her mind is bleary from lack of sleep, and this sends her falling into the abyss of her remembrances. She's pretty sure that if she stretches her hand to the left she will be able to wrap George's fingers in it, and feel the warmth of his fingers one last time. She wishes that she had done it then. The lights that Izzie bought, years ago now, flash over her face, blurred by tears. Blue. Red. Green.

It's true, she could call Izzie right now. Whisper the truths into the phone. She will, maybe. But Izzie's already called to say she got their Christmas card, but Meredith was shopping at the time. The mall is not a place to have a heartfelt conversation. She said she'd call back. She will, but not after one in the morning on Christmas. She will. She promises herself. She has learned to say "I love you", and mean it.

And the lights. She texted her before coming down. Just saying "lights". So that maybe if she's lying under her tree in Spokane she will know she's not alone. Meredith was never the one to hold onto these things. She's Meredith, the nomad, darting from one thing to the next. Never settling. Because when she did settle, it exploded. To prove her point, after all, is the fact that the three other beings that once lay under this tree with her are no longer there.

Derek does not understand her longing for that night, because after all she _was_ miserable. Her mother was ranting at her whenever she entered the nursing home. She had no Derek. All she had were George and Izzie. She didn't know how much that meant until she no longer had them.

"Meredith?"

Her throat is so tight that it's hard to answer Lexie. Maybe she's allergic to the tree. "Lights," she whispers.

To her credit, Lexie doesn't ask. She kneels by the tree, considers it, and then ducks underneath. They don't speak. It doesn't matter that Lexie probably doesn't know exactly why Meredith is under here. What matters is that she doesn't question. She accepts.

After a few minutes, Meredith reaches her right hand out and grasps Lexie's fingers in hers.

It's not enough, but it's something. Someone.

Alex wanders down sometime later. When he takes his place next to her, it makes sense. He lost Izzie. Lexie lost George And Meredith? Meredith lost.

But she also won. Because when they emerge, Derek has made coffee. Lexie is promising to bring two bottles of wine to get her through dinner at their father's. The kitchen is full of people darting in and out with presents, with suitcases and snapping on and off Christmas CDs. It's not the Christmas morning she and Izzie spent, throwing wrapping paper at each other and chasing Doc around the living room. It's not getting George drunk on eggnog when he got back from his parents and tying him up with ribbon.

But they are a family. A mutated one. That has suffered unbearable loss. But they came out in the end. She didn't collapse.

People are missing. Living. Dead. Gone. Gaps in her heart that pull her towards darkness with every smile at Derek's cheesy Christmas traditions.

There is darkness in the gaps. But there are also lights.

There will always be lights.

**A/N **I wanted this in "Holidaze" last year. Then I rewatched "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" and had to do it.


End file.
